


We Were A Family Once

by avatays



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: (and then she gets one), Azula (Avatar) Needs a Hug, Azula (Avatar) Redemption, Azula (Avatar)-centric, Family, Family Feels, Fire Nation Royal Family, Firelord Zuko (Avatar), Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Minor Azula/Ty Lee (Avatar), Minor Mai/Zuko, Old Zuko (Avatar), Post-100 Year War (Avatar TV), Post-Canon Fix-It, Redemption, Sane Azula (Avatar), Sibling Love, Siblings, some angst if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:28:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26675932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avatays/pseuds/avatays
Summary: Azula was released from the mental ward decades ago. She may have realized the error of her ways, but she wasn't going back to the palace of her downfall, and she didn't think she could face her brother again.That changed when fifty years later, her brother's grandson shows up on her porch, searching for the only person he knew can bend lightning - and asking for her to teach him.-A fix-it story about family, siblings, and also includes my headcanon on how Iroh II came to be able to generate lightning in the first place when no one else in the royal family after Azula could.
Relationships: Azula & Iroh II (Avatar), Azula & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 241





	We Were A Family Once

Azula had never met her brother’s grandson. Which she expected. It had been years since she had last seen her family, when she and Zuko were much younger than they were now. 

After she had been released from the mental institution, the doctor citing that she was no longer a danger to herself or others, she had expected Zuko to push for her to stay there. 

He hadn’t, though. Once she had relocated to their family’s old place on Ember Island, far from Caldera and the home she had lost, Zuko had sent her a letter congratulating her on her health. He had also included a small portrait of his and Mai’s newborn daughter, writing, “I’m sure Izumi would like to meet her aunt one day. But that’s up to you.”

Azula couldn’t find it in herself to go back home. The humiliation she felt from the Agni Kai had never gone away, and even at her age, she wasn’t sure she could face Zuko. She had tried to kill him multiple times, she had almost succeeded in one of them. And she couldn’t understand why he was _still_ trying to talk to her, after everything that had happened. 

Even after they had found their mother and she had betrayed him again, he still somehow managed to forgive her — well, forgive might be too strong of a word, but he was trying to reach out. 

He had sent three letters in her time out of the institution. She was twenty-four when she received that first letter, three days after moving to Ember Island; this is the one that held the portrait of her niece. She didn’t respond to the letter, but she did keep the picture. Call it her weakness, but the picture of a baby she had never met, one who she could swear almost looked similar to her, was something she liked to see every day.

The second letter she received when she was forty-nine. He told her that he had a grandson. That one had surprised her. Had time really passed so quickly? She had almost wanted to write back just to tease him, like she had when they were kids, when they were a family. She wanted to say, “A grandfather at 51, Zuzu? I suppose I’ll see you at your funeral in the next few days with how old you are.” But she didn’t write that, she couldn’t write that. So she wrote nothing.

She got the third and final letter when she was fifty-three. Zuko said that he now had a granddaughter. “She looks just like you when you were a baby,” he had written. “Mai hates it.” Azula had rolled her eyes at that. “But I think it’s nice, it’s almost like looking into the past.” He had finished the letter with, “We were a family, once. You are welcome to come home. You’re still the princess. You’re still my sister.”

She had burned that letter. She couldn’t bear to see it mocking her. A girl that looks like her, but isn’t mad. How perfect for Zuko, maybe it’ll feel like closure for him. 

Besides, what is home? Ember Island is her home now. She doesn’t do much here, but what would she do in Caldera? She would still be doing nothing, it’s not like Zuko would trust her input or let her help with his Fire Lord duties. 

Ty Lee came to visit her every so often, but she had almost grown to dread the visits. Ty Lee would always want to go down to the beach, and all Azula could see was their time at the beach when she was fourteen, the last time she had been with her friends and brother before everything fell apart.

It’s better for her — for everyone — this way. She wasn’t really made for family life anyways. 

One morning when she was sixty-five years old, there was a knock at the door. She hadn’t been expecting anyone. She peeked out of the window, and nearly gasped. There was no mistaking who was at the door — he was a near replica of her brother when he was a teenager.

She opened it, and assessed the boy. He was standing straight, but his cheeks were tinged red. He was nervous.

“Hi,” he began. “You don’t know me, but — ”

“You’re Zuzu’s grandson, yes, I can tell,” she interrupted. Agni, he even _sounded_ just like Zuko. “What are you doing here?” Her eyes flickered behind him ever so briefly.

He noticed. “I came alone.” Azula didn’t know if she was disappointed or relieved. He continued, “I wanted to ask for your help.”

She sighed. “Of course, you do.” She walked inside. When she turned back and saw that he was still standing on the porch, she rolled her eyes. “Well, are you coming in or not?”

He scurried in. 

They stood by the table eyeing each other for a moment, before he offered, “Uh, I’ll make some tea?” 

“Yes, why don’t you do that?” she said dryly. It had been a while since she had someone doing things for her, she may as well put the boy to work; call it penance for interrupting her morning. 

She gestured to where her kettle and teacups were, and when he returned, he even poured her a cup before he sat down. Well, there was much to be said about Zuko, but he had managed to produce a well-mannered grandson, she’ll give him that.

He sat down across from her and stirred his tea. She took a sip of hers, before she inhaled deeply. “So,” she finally said. “What could you possibly need from me?”

He twiddled his thumbs absentmindedly. “I want to learn lightning generation. You’re the only person I know who can do it.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Really?” She couldn’t help but be a bit shocked — not that she showed it. She had nearly killed Zuko with lightning, but here his grandson sat, asking to be taught how to do it himself. 

He nodded.

“It’s hard, you know,” she told him warily. “Not many can do it. You need to completely separate yourself from your feelings. There’s a reason why dear Zuzu could never do it.”

“I know. But you were the best at it, and I thought maybe you’d be willing to... was I a fool to come here?” he interrupted his own train of thought. 

Azula shrugged. “Perhaps.” She took another sip. “What’s your name, anyway?”

“Iroh.”

Azula snorted as she lowered the cup of tea. “Of course it is.” She stood up, and walked toward the back door. 

She looked out of the window for a moment. The yard was where she and Zuko used to play, where they would train together, back before their father separated them. She had even first learned to create lightning there when she was twelve. It seemed almost poetic that she would teach someone else there...

“I suppose someone in this family needs to carry on my legacy,” she eventually mused.

Iroh stood up excitedly. “So you’ll teach me?”

Azula sighed. “I see you’re just as dimwitted as my brother — _yes_ , I will teach you.”

He smiled. “Thank you.” He bowed low to her, and she frowned. 

“You’re the crown prince, don’t bow like that to someone below your station — even if they are your superior in every other way,” she said dismissively. 

He straightened up quickly and nodded. “When do we start?”

“No time like the present. You won’t get to do anything fun for a while anyway.” He deflated slightly at her words, so she tacked on, “If your meditation isn’t strong, you’ll never be able to separate yourself from your feelings. You must be devoid of all emotion to separate your yin and yang. So.” She gestured to the back porch, pointing to the pillow she used for her meditation. “Sit. Focus on your energy. Try not to be as emotional as my brother.”

Iroh followed her instructions. He could do what he was told, at least. Perhaps there was hope for him yet.

\---

Iroh had come to visit her once a week for the past few months. Azula couldn’t help but feel a bit flattered that he was willing to sit on a boat for hours just to reach her for one afternoon. A younger version of herself wouldn’t have thought anything of the effort he was putting in, but she would admit that it was admirable. 

This time, Azula offered for him to come by early to join her for breakfast. She’s not sure why she did it, but she felt drawn to him; call it motherly instincts that had lied dormant for all these years.

He had accepted. Now he sat there, picking at his food and looking downcast. 

Azula finally sighed. “What’s the matter? You’re being uncharacteristically quiet.”

Iroh shrugged. “I got into a fight with my sister yesterday. She found out I’ve been coming here and she wanted to tell my mom. I got mad at her, told her it wasn’t any of her business.”

“Well, it wasn’t,” Azula said. She thought for a moment. “I don’t know anything about your sister.”

“Her name is Roka. She’s twelve,” Iroh told her. He picked at his food for a little while longer, before adding, “I know that she’s my sister, and I love her, I really do, but sometimes she’s just so frustrating, and I just need my space. And then she was threatening to go tell mom, and then mom would tell — ” he cut himself off.

“She would tell Zuko,” Azula finished. “Does my brother not know you’re here?”

Iroh looked down guiltily. “No one does. I didn’t want them to tell me I couldn’t. This way at least I can say that they never told me _not_ to come here.”

Azula smirked. “Sounds almost like something I would have done in my youth.” She watched him for a moment, saying, “But you said you love her, right?” When he nodded, she continued, “You’ve got more of a chance than I did then.” 

Azula took a sip of her tea, while Iroh’s eyebrows knit together. “What are you talking about?”

“We never stood a chance. Father pitted us against each other, it was only a matter of time until things fell apart like they did,” Azula hummed.

“That doesn’t mean he didn’t love you — that he still doesn’t.” Azula rolled her eyes, and he continued, “I’m serious. He talked about you a lot when I was growing up. He always wanted you to come back.”

She looked away. “I knew he wanted me back. He offered. But I couldn’t. I trust you understand why not.” She was testing him. Had Zuko even told the boy what she had done to him? If he hadn’t, then it would explain why Iroh had the gall to show up unannounced — the only other explanation was that he was just as stubborn and foolhardy as her brother. (Upon further thought, it was probably that.)

“I know why,” Iroh said. “So did he. When I was a kid, I asked why we had never met you, since he talked about you so much. He said he wasn’t going to push you, not after all the progress you made. He wanted you to be happy, even if it was away from our family.” He was quiet for a beat. “He loves you. Still.”

She turned around. She closed her eyes. She remembered the letters Zuko sent, the letters she had burned, as if they were etched into her mind. _We were a family, once. You are welcome to come home. You’re still the princess. You’re still my sister._

She took a steadying breath. “She’s your sister. She’s always going to get under your skin.” She paused. “But you still care about each other. That won’t change.” She turned back around. “That’s enough of that. Now eat something. I was planning on getting into the physical side of lightning generation, but if you’re hungry, you won’t be able to focus like you need to.”

He ate quickly.

That day was the first time he was able to produce lightning. It was a lot of movements to summon it, and it didn’t go far, not even two feet in front of him, but he had rewarded her with a shuddery laugh. 

“I did it!” Iroh shouted into the air. “I can’t believe it!”

“Don’t get too excited. You have a long way to go. You had no control over it and it was weak. And you’re going to need to be quicker than that.”

He turned to face her again. “That’s it? I thought it was good for my first try.”

“If you expect praise from me, you’re going to be very disappointed,” she told him coldly. “Go back to Zuko if you want praise. If you want to accomplish this, you’ll stay here.”

He nodded. “Okay. What’s next?”

“Do it again. This time, focus on the energy leaving your body when you do it. You need to stay focused or you’re going to be too weak to even continue fighting after you throw it once.”

It took him a few tries, but he managed to do it again. This time, it extended past the cliffs they were overlooking. He laughed again, and looked back at her with a smile. Azula nodded her approval. 

When he turned back around to do it again, he didn’t see the slight upturn on her lips that she couldn’t hide anymore.

\---

Iroh was becoming quite good. He had been coming for almost a year. Azula was certain that her brother must know where his own grandson has been going once a week for all this time. Zuko may be a bit thick-headed, but he was no fool, he can put the pieces together if they’re sitting right in front of him.

Azula was — dare she say it — proud of him. Iroh was dedicated to learning his craft, that much is certain. He wasn’t a master, not yet — he was getting there though.

But even thinking about it made her heart pound. When had she come to care for the boy that much? The thought of Iroh not coming to visit anymore was almost too upsetting of a thought to her. Everyone always leaves, that was a fact of life she knew all too well, but for the last year, her great-nephew had been a constant.

They would spend the morning meditating, then they would break for lunch, where Iroh would tell her stories about his family, and she would pretend not to like hearing them. They would then spend the afternoon actually training. By evening, he was back in Caldera. 

Sometime over the past year, unbeknownst to her, she had begun to look forward to his weekly visits. Not that she would tell him that, of course. 

So when it was time for him to come again, she heard the knock on the door, and was happy to open it — 

Until she saw a face that was almost unfamiliar to her. _(Almost.)_

“Azula,” Zuko breathed out. “It’s good to see you again.” 

She took a step back. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“You were expecting Iroh, I know,” he said. “But I asked him to yield this afternoon to me — he’ll come tomorrow, if you’ll allow him.”

Azula nodded stiffly. “Yes, I suppose that’s fine.”

They stood on the porch for a moment, before Zuko said, “It’s been a long time. I wanted to talk to you.”

“...I suppose I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” Azula retorted. “I can’t really deny the Fire Lord.”

Zuko frowned. “I’m not here as the Fire Lord. I’m here as your brother.”

She sighed. “Fine. You already came all this way, you may as well in. I was meditating out back, I will continue that while you say your piece.”

Zuko nodded, seemingly understanding that was the best he was going to get. Azula sat on the porch and closed her eyes. The only thing she could hear was the waves and the breeze, before Zuko said, “I missed you, you know.”

“I’m sure,” she said sarcastically.

“I did. You’re my sister.”

“ _Was._ ”

“ _Are_ ,” he interjected strongly. “We’ve been apart for a long time, and I thought that was for the best. But I’ve gotten older, and I don’t think that anymore. I’m not going to make you, but I want you to come back home.”

Her hands shook slightly. “I don’t know _why._ ”

“Why what?”

“Don’t play the fool, Zuzu,” she snapped, opening her eyes and standing. “I tried to kill you and your little friends. I wasn’t... I wasn’t a good sister to you. At any point in our childhood, really.” She knew it, the years in the institution (and the therapy that continued afterwards) had helped her perspective — it hadn’t changed her entirely though. 

“And I hunted my friends and betrayed my wife when I was a teenager,” Zuko said with a shrug. “No one’s perfect.”

Azula couldn’t help the bark of laughter that escaped her. “Yes, well, that’s for sure.” Zuko simply stood there and waited for her to continue. It seemed his old age had quelled his temper quite well. 

She crossed her arms. “You look terrible, by the way.”

“You look worse,” he bit back without hesitation.

They paused for a beat, before Zuko started laughing. She gave him the barest hint of a smile. 

“I guess some things never change, do they?” he finally said, wiping at the corner of his good eye.

“No, I guess not,” Azula amended. “You still haven’t answered my question though.”

“I want you to come back because you’re my sister. I want you to come back so my daughter and my grandchildren get to know you through more than just stories that are decades old. I want you to come back because I missed you. Pick one,” Zuko told her dismissively.

“But _how_? How have you forgiven me? Or has your old age just taken your memory from you?”

“I don’t have a reason, Zula. You’re my sister. I’m always going to forgive you. I’m always going to want you to be happy. I’m always going to love you.”

“You shouldn’t,” she interjected, turning to look at the sea, avoiding his eyes. She almost wanted to fight him on it. She had been alone so long, and now Zuko was here, and he wanted her around. Was she just lonely or had she possibly, maybe, missed him too? She knew the answer, but she wasn’t ready to admit that to him.

“Probably not,” he said. “I do anyway.”

She felt a hand on her shoulder. “I want you to come home,” Zuko repeated. “You’re still my sister. No matter what you do or say to try and convince me otherwise. I’ve always missed you. And I forgave you long ago.”

Her bottom lip trembled and she looked at him — she _really_ looked at him, for the first time in almost fifty years. And he was wearing that look he had always given her after they had argued as children, one that showed he had already forgotten the fight and moved past it. 

Her eyes were beginning to water as she bit her tongue and tried to hold it back. Zuko pulled her into his chest and wrapped his arms around her. She hesitated, but eventually she did the same. She buried her face into his robes to hide the tears, trying to remember if this is what his hugs felt like when they were young, or if this is what he smelled like as a teenager. So much had changed... but not everything had.

As he held her tight, Zuko whispered, “We were a family, once.”

  
Azula closed her eyes and grinned, unabashed, at the unspoken:

_We could be again._

**Author's Note:**

> i mostly wrote this semi-short story as an attempt to get out of a writing slump i've been in recently, and this idea popped into my head when i realized that general iroh ii was the only royal family member we ever saw use lightning in legend of korra. and i realized that there's the change that azula had to have taught him, since it's canon that zuko could never do it.  
> also we never actually learned the name of iroh's sister, so i made one up lol.  
> anyways, i hope you guys enjoyed this, and please let me know your thoughts if you feel so inclined!  
> thanks for reading!  
> \- t


End file.
